Weaken the Knees (The Immortal World Book 6)

by Shannon A. Hiner

  Rene shuddered, closing her eyes against the words and wishing she could close her ears as well.

  “Do you think he would have loved you if he’d known the truth? He would have hated you. Probably did hate you. What creature could love you? Not even one as dark as him would. He would reject you. Only your family will care for you. Only me.”

  Flinching, Rene hunched over herself. She shouldn’t listen. She’d do anything to unhear those words. Words she’d been trying to scrub from her memories as long as she could remember. Tanner had loved her, she knew that. Hadn’t he? And Serena . . . Serena loved her. Except . . . Serena hadn’t come for her. No one had come. No one but Ira. Will’s face flashed in her mind’s eye, his warm chestnut eyes and messy dark hair. He’d said he loved her. No. No, he couldn’t. Because he didn’t know her. He didn’t know about Ira.

  Shoulders beginning to shake, Rene curled tighter around herself and tried to block her face from Ira.

  She could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “Don’t worry, Sarah. You have me. You’ll always have me.”

  ∞∞∞

  The wadded-up napkin from Fletcher’s only had an address and apartment number penned in the corner. Nothing else. No instructions on what to do once she got there, who to ask for, or what she was to do with the rest of her life. Kendra stared down at it, then looked up at the corresponding number on the door in front of her. He said not to wait, but still she hesitated. Her entire world had been upended, and now she was dumped here. At this door. Without her sire.

  Kendra set her shoulders back and raised a hand to knock on the door. Three short taps, just like her sire always used.

  A feminine voice called out from the other side of the door. “Coming!” A few moments later the voice came again, closer. “Are you dead or alive?”

  Raising her brows, Kendra looked down at herself and shrugged. “Mostly dead, I think.”

  “Good,” the voice said, and the deadbolt lock turned on the door, opening to reveal a young woman’s face framed by russet waves. A splotchy red nose marred her beauty, and the whites around her dark green eyes were a little red. She sniffed and gave Kendra a small smile. “Sorry, getting over the flu, I didn’t want to infect you. But if you’re already dead, you needn’t worry.”

  “Oh.” Kendra looked back down at the napkin in her hand, then back up at the woman. The address matched. Had her sire written it down incorrectly?

  “May I help you?” The woman inquired, leaning on the door as she lifted a tissue to wipe at her eyes.

  “I don’t know. I was given your address, but I think it might be wrong.”

  It might have been Kendra’s imagination, but she thought the woman straightened, her eyes seemed a little sharper. “Who gave you the address?”

  “My—er,” Kendra hesitated. She wished he’d given her instructions. A code word or something to prove this woman—this apartment— was where she was supposed to be.

  “Dammit, Kali,” a man’s voice came from inside. “What did I tell you? You need to stay in bed until you’re all the way better. What are you doing hanging half out the door? You’re going to catch a chill and get even sicker.” The man came into sight, taller than the woman and leanly muscled. He had messy dark hair and eyes a disturbingly bright shade of blue. “Who’s this?”

  “I’m not sure,” the woman said. “Someone gave her our address, but before she could tell me who, some irritating vampire-nanny started shouting about me being out of bed.”

  He came up behind the woman, bussing the back of her head with a swift kiss. “Go lie down and rest.”

  “Not before I know who this young woman is.”

  He sighed, but they both turned expectant eyes on Kendra. She stared back, eyes darting from man to woman, woman to man. This couldn’t be where her sire had meant for her to be. It had to be the wrong address.

  “What’s your name?” the man asked.

  “K-Kendra. Willits.”

  “I think you left a couple out there.” He winked. The woman leaned back against him, looking exhausted but waiting patiently for Kendra to respond.

  She cleared her throat. “Melchior Fraccas.”

  All signs of ease were immediately erased from their faces. The man slid in front of the woman, saying in a low voice. “Kali, go lie down.”

  “But—”

  He hissed deep in his throat, eyes never leaving Kendra. The woman sighed and stomped out of the room. Or would have stomped, had she not been in sock feet. “Melchior gave you my address?” the man asked when the woman disappeared.

  Kendra sensed that he wasn’t much older than she was, only a few decades she’d guess, but she could still feel the powerful threat rolling off of him. He was stronger, more experienced, battle ready. “Yes?” she held out the napkin.

  He didn’t hesitate to take it from her, eyes glancing over it, then back at her. He took in her whole appearance and seemed to look deeper. He was checking her age, her power, just as she’d done him. Looking down the hall both ways, his eyes narrowed slightly and he beckoned her in. “Sit down.”

  “I’d rather—”

  “Sit.” He closed the door and followed her into the sitting area that was filled with a long couch, two armchairs, and a coffee table. Kendra sat gingerly on one of the armchairs as he sat on the couch directly across from her. “Melchior Mendel sent you to me? Why? What did he say?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think he had time to say anything.” Kendra looked down at her hands.

  The man muttered something under his breath. “Tell me what happened. Everything.”

  “Everything?”

  “Do you trust Melchior?”

  She nodded.

  “First mistake. Do you trust me?”

  Kendra hesitated, but opted for honesty, shaking her head.

  “Good. Trust no one. But you’re going to have to tell me something if you want my help.”

  “Who are you?”

  One side of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “Zane Verbotsch Ignatius Acrien.”

  She’d heard of him. Rumors only. That he’d left the Fraccas. No one spoke of it openly. The last blood who did had been one of the ones left for the dawn. Why would Melchior send her to him? “The master wants me dead.”

  “We don’t call him that here. He is Ignatius, or ‘that son of a bitch.’” Zane leaned back against the couch. “Tell me something I don’t know, and I’ll see if I can help you.”

  “Something you don’t know?”

  “Ignatius would like nothing more than to watch the world burn, Kendra. Wanting you dead hardly makes you special. Tell me why Melchior saved you?”

  Because he cared. The cynical glint in Zane Verbotch’s eyes stopped her from uttering anything close to that. What would he believe? Why, why, why would her sire send her to someone who hated him? Hated the Fraccas? She could see that hate, that distrust, plain as day on his face.

  And then she knew.

  “I know many things you don’t know,” she said slowly. “Many things I shouldn’t know.” Things that someone who hated the Fraccas, hated the master, would do anything to know. Even if it meant protecting her.

  ∞∞∞

  Ireland was beautiful.

  Will hated it.

  Peaceful and picturesque, it grated on the part of his soul that had begun to long for motion and violence the moment Rene had disappeared. Standing on the manicured lawn amid sculpted topiary and master-planned gardens, Will stared out at the rather tame-looking forest and the thick blanket of stars tucked snugly about it. It was beautiful. But it wasn’t home. The forest around Discord was thick and overgrown, dark and brooding. This one looked like some master planner’s drawing of what a forest should be. The trees were spaced just so and the undergrowth formed neat patterns. A fallen log here and there for atmosphere and the soft sound of bugs going about their nighttime business. Frogs croaked, owls hooted. He hated it.

  Inaction gripped him tight and shook him to a rage.
Standing there, perfectly still, the need to lash out and destroy something was nearly overwhelming.

  “Mr. Rynquist?” a lilting female voice called quietly, accompanied by the sound of approaching footsteps.

  He closed his eyes briefly, before sighing. “You can drop the ‘mister.’ In fact, I would be more comfortable if you called me Will or William.”

  Coming just to his shoulder, Ember MacKinnon had a way of moving her lithe figure so silently, he could have sworn on multiple occasions that she must be a ghost. Light brown hair straight as a board grew just past her shoulders, the ends flicked out naturally. As the Second in Command of the Madrassi, she’d taken it upon herself to be his guide in Ireland, introducing him to the clan and ferrying him about to all the new places. “All right, Will or William, as you like it. I too would be most comfortable if you called me by my first name.”

  He gave her a quick half smile and a nod. The pleasant expression felt wrong on his face, unnatural. When was the last time he’d smiled? It fell away more quickly than it came, replaced by a scowl that felt more familiar.

  “I don’t consider myself especially observant,” Ember said, “But it seems to me you don’t wish to be here. Why did Estrada send you, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Perverseness.” The quip was out of his mouth before he could think better of it. If that got back to Angela Estrada, he was a dead vampire walking. He cleared his throat. “That’s not true. I think she was trying to help me.”

  “Help you do what?”

  “Forget.” Again the word slipped out. What was wrong with him? Was he losing all self-control?

  “Forget what?” Of course she asked. He’d practically begged her to ask.

  Will couldn’t bring himself to answer. He still didn’t look at her, only trusting his eyes on that too perfect forest and sky. If he concentrated hard enough, he could feel Rene. Hear her. The sensation made him uneasy. Perhaps his imagination was working over time, but he didn’t like what his senses were telling him. Trouble. Capital T.

  “Ah, a girl.” Ember sighed. “Our Madrassi ladies will be so sad. I believe many of them were going to make a game of trying to catch you. But I can see you are hooked quite tightly already.” She looked out over the forest too, then nudged her shoulder into his. “Tell me. Why does Estrada want you to forget this girl?”

  “Ember, no disrespect, but I would rather not talk about it.”

  “It might help.”

  “It won’t.”

  She made a face at him, but fell silent. Ember stayed next to him for long moments, giving him company he neither wanted nor appreciated. Was it too much to ask to let a man brood in peace?

  From his pocket, his phone started buzzing. It had been frustratingly quiet ever since arriving in Ireland a few days before. He’d asked Serena to call him with any news, but evidently there hadn’t been any. His heart flew up to his throat as he struggled to get the phone out of his pocket to see the caller ID. Disappointment broke in waves around him. Not Serena. He didn’t recognize the number. With a sigh, he let it go to voicemail, stuffing the phone back in his pocket. Two seconds later it started buzzing again. The same number.

  Ember watched him curiously. “Are you going to get that?”

  Will stared at the phone number, debating. It could just be a telemarketer, or a wrong number . . . but they’d called back so quickly. On the fourth ring, he picked up. “Hello?”

  “Is this William Rynquist?” It was a male voice, slightly familiar, with a London accent.

  “Yes?” His chest tightened in expectation.

  “This is Errin Kaye, we’ve met previously a few times.”

  “Yes?” he said again, working to keep the edge out of his voice.

  “I was working with Rene on this Venor group.”

  Will had to physically bite his tongue to keep from snapping at the man on the other end of the phone. Get to the point.

  The other man waited a moment, but apparently realized he wasn’t going to get a response. “Would you be able to come to my office tonight?”

  Eyes flicking to Ember and thinking of both Angela’s and Hadrian’s orders, Will sighed. “I’m a bit tied up at the moment in Malevolence.”

  A muffled discussion in the background took precedence for a moment and then there seemed to be a commotion. A new voice came over the phone, one he knew all too well. “I told you I should have called him,” Angela Estrada snapped at someone. “William, get over here now. Tell MacKinnon and Jarrod I have need of you elsewhere and I’ll send someone else. Do not tell them why you are really coming.”

  Will hesitated. “Why am I coming?”

  “Go straight to Errin’s office. Someone will be waiting for you there. Speak to no one, and don’t mention my name. I can’t be involved. Not yet.”

  “I—I don’t understand.”

  “We found her, kid.”

  Part 4

  Spring

  (oh hey, that’s now.)

  Chapter 28

  Will reappeared in between a charred weeping willow tree and a heaping pile of ash and brick. Errin Kaye’s shop was destroyed. Shock made his stomach drop. What in the world had happened here? It looked to have happened some days prior, as the wreckage was no longer smoldering and in fact appeared to have been rained on. Why would they tell him to come here when there was nothing here?

  A throat cleared somewhere behind him. Will whipped around and saw no one. What was going on? Two branches of the weeping willow parted an inch, and a face peeked out at him. “Will?”

  He knew the face, sort of knew the voice. But he wasn’t entirely trusting himself. “Yes?” Dark eyes shifted around him, as if searching for someone else.

  “Come here,” the voice said. And the branches shifted together again, completely obscuring the person.

  Will stared at the tree. Was he really about to slip under a willow tree’s branches to meet with a relative stranger? What if it was a trap? Estrada had said someone would be waiting for him . . . but how sure was he really that had been Estrada on the phone?

  “Hurry up,” the voice came again. “We don’t have all night and they’re waiting.”

  He clenched his fists and strode toward the willow. This was the only lead he’d had on Rene’s whereabouts. Either it panned out, or it was a trap, but he wasn’t going to risk not finding out. It was dark under the willow. The half of the tree that the fire hadn’t burned still had a thick curtain of branches.

  Only one person awaited him underneath. “Seer.” He nodded respectfully. It was always a good idea to be respectful to Seers. Not that they could change the future or anything, but he’d heard rumors that particularly peeved ones could fill a person’s mind with all their worst futures and drive them mad.

  Aubrianna Pennington smiled briefly. “We meet again. Under better circumstances this time, I think.”

  “That remains to be seen.”

  Her smile widened, and he realized what he’d said. Seen. To a Seer. Idiot.

  “It certainly does.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, what are we doing under this tree?”

  “Oh, of course,” she said. “I’m not here.”

  “Begging your pardon?”

  “You may beg it all you like, but you don’t need it.” Aubri reached out before he could move away and grabbed him by the wrist. They disappeared, pulled into the shimmer. When the blackness faded and life came back, Will found himself in a small clearing outside a Colonial-style house. All around was a well grown pine and white oak forest. No other buildings were visible. The somewhat large house was lit up from every window and he could hear many voices within. “Come on. They’re waiting for us.”

  It was the second time she’d said so, and again Will found himself confused and growing more concerned by the moment. The Seer stepped through a waist-high gate and into the small yard. The walkway to the front door was lined by newly planted rose bushes, the dirt around them freshly turned and watered. Smal
l white alyssum flowers surrounded the front porch and morning glory vines had begun to climb the banisters. Everything appeared new and fresh, yet the style was antique and tasteful.

  Will followed her through the yard and up the steps, where she opened the front door of the house and ushered him in. In the light of the hall he could see the deep auburn color of her hair as she hung her coat on the antique hall tree.

  A young woman poked her head around the corner, dark curls bouncing every which way. “Oh, Aubri. You’re back. And you have him.” The woman smiled hesitantly at him and rounded the corner the rest of the way. “Hello, I’m Bree. Welcome.”

  She held out her hand matter-of-factly. Will stared down at it, at her, for a moment as he processed a few facts. First of all, she was human. Second, she smelled like a vampire, as if she’d been hanging very close to them. That couldn’t be a surprise, considering the circumstances under which he was meeting her.

  Will took her hand cautiously. It was burning hot and felt like life itself. He swallowed slowly as he shook it once and dropped it like a live coal. He hadn’t touched a human as anything other than food in a few hundred years. “William Rynquist Mathew Risqueen.”

  “Bree O’Quinn, very nice to meet you.” She tucked one of the errant curls behind her ear and motioned to both of them to follow her. “Come on. Everyone is in the living room waiting.”

  Leading them around the corner to a spacious room filled with chairs, couches, and end tables, the human crossed the room to plop herself down on the arm of a chair where Errin Kaye sat. The rest of the room was teeming with immortals. Will looked around slowly at the motley group. He recognized many, though not all.

  Serena waved at him from an armchair to his left. Wade was in the one next to her. Faber was standing in one corner of the room, Kendra next to him. Actually, she was a little behind him, as if he could protect her. Will glared at her, but kept his eyes moving. On the sofa, Zane Verbostch—a vampire he knew by sight but had never officially met—sat with a young woman Will assumed to be his shapeshifter girlfriend, Kali. Next to Kali was another shapeshifter, Daniel Suthers, well known in the immortal world, though he hadn’t been seen as much in the past couple of years. Aubrianna Pennington moved into the room past him and took one of the two remaining armchairs.